The 24 Hour Flu
by foreversnowynights
Summary: When Alfred gets the 24 hour flu and is out of commission, there is no one better to hold his head and clean out his rubbish bin than Arthur.


**AN: Hello, I just thought I'd give you guys a little warning and say I do mention throwing up quite a bit, I don't get descriptive with it, but just an FYI. This is somewhat based off of when I myself had the 24 hour flu and let me tell you, the name lies. It's more like 24 hours of nonstop vomiting, 24 hours of unconsciousness and then 24 hours of really bad stomach pains and headaches once you wake up again. It should be called the 72 hour flu, but whatever, I didn't name the virus. So on with the fic!**

oOoOoOo

24 Hour Flu

Had it been any other day Arthur probably would have been yelling and bickering with Alfred over his stupid ideas, lack of manners as well as knowledge in the English language and his horrendously fattening foods. But this was not any other day, and even if it was he knew fully well it was ungentlemanly as well as just flat out cruel to yell and argue with a man who was laid out, half unconscious on his couch with his head in a rubbish bin a quarter full of vomit.

He didn't exactly know why Alfred was this sick; his economy had been doing better, well decently if he wanted to be realistic about it. If anything his economy should have just given him the sniffles or something far less than even that, but not this, defiantly not this. No this, this was not the sniffles nor a simple throw up and be done with it sickness. It was a throw up, and then throw up again, and then oh-hey-let's-just-empty-your-stomach-fully-for-the-fun-of-it followed by your-stomach-is-empty-now-so-we're-moving-onto-bile and ending with just-throw-up-your-stomach-and-be-done-with-it sickness. This sickness was just cruel.

He winced as he heard several sickly and stomach churning splashes followed by a sob like groan. Oh Alfred was so getting as much ice cream as he bloody well pleased once this virus was out of his system, if he could stomach the thought of food ever again. He closed his eyes and fetched another towel, getting it nice and moist under frigid cold water, then walking into Alfred's living room and feeling pity swell up in his chest. The poor man; torn down by a virus that just ravaged the innards. Alfred looked up at him and Arthur could see him shaking as well as hear his teeth clattering together as he shivered. "Alfred have you had any water?" Alfred blinked slowly and rested his head back onto the couch without replying. Arthur sighed. "I will take that as a no then." He walked over to the sick nation and kneeled down, nose scrunching up at the foul smell of stomach acids and undigested food that rested in the plastic bin. He let out a choked sound and Alfred's eyes flew up to meet his own as if to ask 'did I get you sick too?'

Arthur shook his head and Alfred's eyes closed once more as he rested the moist cloth on his forehead. He let out a peaceful sigh and Arthur gave the tired man a soft smile, though he could not see it. He stood up and grabbed an extra bin, replacing it with the one that was now getting close to full. He held back a few gags as he carried it to a bathroom and emptied it into the toilet. He sighed as he flushed it down, listening as Alfred relinquished the contents of his stomach once more into the clean, well not so clean now, bin. He let out a groan and thumped his head against the wall a few times before rinsing out the rubbish bin he had in his hands and disinfecting the outside of it with bleach wipes. He walked out of the bathroom and made his way back to the living room, pausing to look down at Alfred. His face was pale though his cheeks were flaming red; his eyes were half closed and glazed over in obvious discomfort. His body was shaking and he had sweat marks on his shirt and his breathing was a tad bit ragged, but not enough to be overly worried about. He kneeled down once more and snatched the neglected glass of water off the coffee table, holding it to Alfred's lips. He turned his head away and let out a moan, eyes flickering over to Arthur in a manner that said 'Move. Now.' He did and he was glad. Alfred's hands flew out for the bucket and he shoved his head in releasing bile. Arthur sighed once more, he seemed to be doing that a lot today, and he rested his hand on Alfred's back, rubbing large circles. Alfred let out a few sobs once he was finished and Arthur pushed him back into his horizontal position.

"A-arthur," Alfred began, his voice raw like the lining of his esophagus had been stripped away, and it probably had been. Arthur shushed him but he carried on anyways. "M I g'nna die?" He mumbled quietly, his eyes flashing with fear. Arthur shook his head and ran his fingers through Alfred's hair.

"No, you'll be fine. You're America remember? You're the hero, and the hero never dies." Alfred gave him a very tired and wiry smile before pushing him away to vomit once more. Arthur knew for sure Alfred was not going to die. No nation would be killed so easily by a sickness unless it was the plague or millions of his citizens were dying from it. But Alfred's question still set him at unease. Was Alfred really that scared and put down by this virus that he thought he was going to die? He might get dehydrated yes, but death would not be in the verdict. His thoughts took a pregnant pause as he gazed at Alfred once more. Scratch what he had said before about the might get dehydrated. The man was most **defiantly** dehydrated. He bit his lip and reached for the water again. Just because he wouldn't die doesn't mean it wouldn't hurt. And now that he really thought about it, he should probably be getting Alfred to a hospital for an IV.

He held the water under Alfred's chin and his eyes fluttered open. Hesitantly, he opened his mouth and Arthur knew after being at it for more than 10 hours now that Alfred most defiantly didn't want anything in his stomach. It was understandable, but this had to be done. Alfred took a few sips and his wiry smile returned as Arthur took the cup away. His body relaxed back into the couch and for the first time since early that morning, Alfred actually looked peaceful.

Within seconds that peaceful face changed and his head was back in the bucket with Arthur praying it would be over soon.

oOoOoOo

24 hours had passed just two hours before, though the vomiting hadn't stopped until at least one hour before and now Alfred was unconscious, if not in a dead like state on the couch. His mouth was wide open with nonexistent snores and his whole body was relaxed in a way that Arthur could only think of as pure relief. His expression was blank, but peaceful and the mess he had made had long since been cleaned, and disinfected to a state in which it was practically sterile. Arthur let out a sigh of relief and plopped down on one of Alfred's cozy chairs, letting out a squawk as the foot rest flung up. He glared at the foot rest for a moment before pushing his body farther into the cushions and closing his eyes with a satisfied smile. Before he knew it, sleep had claimed him as well and he could not have been happier.

oOoOoOo

"Arthur." He heard a ragged voice call. He let out a hum in reply as his eyes opened and blinked rapidly to rid himself of sleep. He gazed over at Alfred and felt relief as the man was sitting up (not all the way though) and was seemingly lucid.

"Yes Alfred?" Alfred paused, his fingers traveling up to rub his throat before he spoke again.

"Can I have some water?" Arthur blinked, and slowly nodded, taking in the relaxed look that crossed Alfred's face. He stood up stretching and fetched the other a fresh and cool glass of water, watching him carefully as he drank it in case of another round of the day before's adventures. He glanced at his phone for the time, realizing that it was dark outside and chocking on air at the date. Two days, they had both been out for nearly two days. Alfred stopped drinking and looked up at him expectantly for what had caused his reaction. He cleared his throat and sat down once more.

"We've been asleep for nearly two days, and you've been incapacitated for about three." Alfred blinked and set his cup down on the table, rolling over and shutting his eyes once more. "Alfred?"

"M tir'd and I dn't care." He mumbled. Arthur chuckled and ran his fingers through his hair once more.

"I'm not surprised. Go back to sleep, love." Alfred nodded and was out within seconds. Arthur sighed and decided he didn't care much either. He sat back down in the easy chair and closed his eyes, knowing Alfred was feeling better once more and praying that he wouldn't get the virus.


End file.
